


The Darkest Skies

by Chuckaboo



Category: Basil of Baker Street Series - Eve Titus, Classic Disney - Fandom, Disney - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, The Great Mouse Detective (1986)
Genre: Other, new villain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:01:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24008521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chuckaboo/pseuds/Chuckaboo
Summary: London, 1899. The turn of the century creeps ever closer, and a worlds fair is being held in the heart of the city. The mouse world below is also gearing up for their own international celebration of achievements, and with the festivities beginning, a new evil lurks high above the streets, waiting for his moment to strike.An old acquaintance visits 221 1/2 Baker Street seeking Basil's help in retrieving a device stolen from her client, but is there more to this simple mystery than meets the eye?
Relationships: Basil of Baker Street/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 11





	1. Prologue- On the Streets of London

**Author's Note:**

> The only Worlds Fair of seemingly any note in London was in 1851, there was another in 1897 but there's hardly any information on it and another one in 1899 that seemed to be very small, so we're changing history a little bit but it's fine this is a world of talking mice. 
> 
> Also, if you follow me on Twitter, Tumblr, or Instagram I will be posting Illustrations along with each chapter! A sort of nod to Sidney Paget's Holmes Iluustrations! I can be found at Shioneaa for all three~

As dawn began to rise over a sleepy London, the daily workers started their chores. The stores of Oxford Street buzzed to life with morning activity. Bakers prepped for their daily sales, the meat markets slowly opened their doors, and the steel and iron works began spitting smoke high into the sky. As the human world began to stir, so did a world below.

  
Hidden in the alleys, mice, too, began their daily routines. Mouse society could thrive easily among the goings-on of humans in a city like London, and almost entirely similar as well. Bakers and florists, solicitors offices and banks all opened their doors ready for the day's activities.

  
“EXTRIE, EXTRIE! READ ABOUT IT! DARING DETECTIVE BRINGS AN END TO DASTARDLY DEALINGS!” the newsboys began to shout, enticing the business mice to buy a paper on their way to work.

  
Strolling down the busy market streets, a lady-mouse of impeccable class smiled to herself as she heard the boys shout their headlines.

  
“Buy a paper, miss?” a voice asked beside her. Glancing over she spotted a young sparrow boy who was holding out a paper at her expectantly. Bird societies didn’t often do their dealings among mice, given the food chain, but it wasn’t too uncommon to see smaller birds selling their own wares this far down on the city streets. Although, it was strange to see a newspaper bird in this area filled with street mice boys who would happily chase him out of their territory. The woman paused her step and pulled out a halfpenny.

  
“Any news?” She asked, taking the paper from his outstretched feathers.

  
“Nothin’ new, miss.” He responded, tucking the coin into his pocket. “He’s been in a right pleasant mood lately, things goin’ pretty well up top for ‘im I s’pose.”

  
“Well that is good news. Then the plan is the same?”

  
“Aye, miss. That it be. He jus' wanted me 't make sure you weren't skippin' out.”

  
“Now why would I do that? He hasn't finished paying me yet. Tell him to be patient, a plan like this takes time.” She paused, smiling at the boy who seemed uncomfortable. He was too young to be caught up in all of this. “Chin up Felix. This should all be over soon. Say hello to your sister for me.”

  
The boy smiled back at her and, tucking his newspaper satchel out of the way of his wings, soared back to the rooftops.

Basil, she thought fondly. I’ll be seeing you again soon.

\--

Somewhere high above the city streets, church bells tolled marking the hour. In the highest steeple of St. Paul’s Cathedral, a jet black bird sneered down at the world below him. Everything was coming together, the wheels of his plans set into motion. Soon, all of London would be in his talons.


	2. The Detective Pines for a Case

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit short, but luckily I have chapter 2 ready to go! Once I finish the illustration for it I should be able to post it! (Most likely tomorrow) But here's the introduction to the great detective! He's a bit...bored.
> 
> Remember!! if you follow me on Twitter, Tumblr, or Instagram I will be posting Illustrations along with each chapter! A sort of nod to Sidney Paget's Holmes Iluustrations! I can be found at Shioneaa for all three~

“World’s fair commencement to be held in three days.” Dr. Dawson read aloud from his newspaper. He sat by the fireplace, across from his dearest friend and celebrated detective, Basil. All was calm at 221 ½ Baker street, which made the detective restless. He had just solved another case only days before and was already itching for another one. A case involving a made up society of red-furred mice was sure to make the readers of the Doctor’s stories in The String excited. Basil didn’t quite understand why his friend felt the need to write out their adventures, but if the Detective who lived above was content with it then so should he be.  
“I need a new case. Something exciting, something mind bending...I need a challenge!” The detective cried, draping himself over the arms of his chair in a position that looked rather uncomfortable to Dawson.

  
“Oh Basil, maybe a little time off from cases will be a good thing. Look, the World's Fair starts in a few days! I for one can’t wait to see the science pavilions! I hear the Italian mice have been making incredible innovations!”

  
“My mind rebels at stagnation, Doctor. I need something new or I fear I shall shrivel up and be of no use to you.”

  
Dawson simply rolled his eyes and went back to scanning his paper. Basil was often dramatic, and it was best to leave him to pluck away at his violin until he had something new to occupy him. Ever since Ratigan’s demise, Basil had to rely on more mundane cases to keep himself busy. Dawson couldn’t really say what his friend was like before that fateful encounter when they helped Olivia find her father and subsequently bring the rat to his end. However, now he could see that without the greater threat, the detective got easily bored.

  
The two had solved many cases together since the first, two years had passed in fact and Dawson could read his friend rather easily now. As much as Dawson enjoyed the quiet time between cases, even he had to admit that a new one would always be welcome. He had taken to scribbling down their adventures together and found that they were quite popular reads in The String. Dawson quite liked the recognition, although Basil didn't really seem to enjoy the notoriety. At least having your abilities available to the public helped with business, and it was even more enthralling for them when they could read about how he did it, rather than the police summary in the other papers.

  
“The great detective above is out on his own case so I cannot even go up and listen to him. Does the paper list any operas tonight? A symphony perhaps? Something worth doing.”

  
Dawson skimmed over the entertainment section in his newspaper. “Nothing that we haven’t already seen, Basil. I think with all of the excitement in the rest of London there isn’t too much to show yet.”

  
“Then I suppose that fair will be a welcome change. With so many new mice in the city maybe a crime or two will come with them.” The detective rose to his feet bringing his violin with him. He rose it to rest under his chin and began a melodic tune. Basil had a point. Mice from all over were already trickling into the city. Nothing yet had come of this but there was always a chance.

  
Time quietly ticked on as Basil played, mimicking his hero above in the way they had heard him play so many times before. Dawson simply continued on with his paper. All was calm, just the way he liked it.

  
An hour or so later, there was a knock at the door. Basil kept playing but Dawson glanced over. The housekeeper Mrs. Judson had heard the knock and made her way over to the entrance, wiping her paws on her apron before opening the door.

  
“Is Basil at home?” Asked a female voice with an American accent.

  
“He is indeed! Come in dear.” Mrs. Judson stepped aside to let the woman in.

  
Basil glanced at the visitor and abruptly stopped his playing causing a terrible screech to come from the strings.

  
“Hello, Basil.” The woman mused.

  
“Eliza.”


	3. A Familiar Face

“Don’t stop playing on my account, it was lovely.” The woman removed her coat and placed it on the hanger beside the door. She was finely dressed in blue fabrics, her hair tucked neatly under a hat of matching color to the dress. Her green eyes scanned the room, amusement visible as she took in the messy state of the home. She was a typical light brown mouse with lighter brown markings around her muzzle, right ear, and left paw. “I’ve missed hearing you play.”

“What are you doing here, Eliza?”

“Can’t I visit an old friend without having some sort of motive?”

“You? No.” Basil starred her down with an intensity that Dawson could only recall seeing him use with Ratigan and other high-class criminals. But if she were that sort of low-life, why would she voluntarily come here?

“Basil? Who is this?” Dawson asked, rising from his spot. She said they were old friends, was it back before he had ever met Basil?

“Doctor, This is Miss Eliza Brant. Former American singer turned petty criminal.” Basil replied.

“Oh Basil, don’t be so cruel! Look, I come with gifts. Consider them a peace offering.” She crossed the room with purpose, coming to rest at a table near his chemistry set and pulled two small packages from her reticule. “Tea from Assam and Apricots from Italy. Mrs. Judson, would you be so kind as to brew us a pot?”

The landlady who had been lingering in the room smiled kindly and took the two gifts from the other mouse, muttering something about the superiority of good English Tea on her way back into the kitchen.

“I see you still can’t keep your rooms clean. I thought the good Doctor was exaggerating in his stories of you but I see that it’s entirely true! Are those actual bullet holes in your wall there?”

“You’ve read my stories?” Dawson asked, beaming slightly.

“What mouse hasn’t read the daring adventures of Basil of Baker Street and Doctor Dawson? You two are regular heroes!”

“Bah.” Was all the detective could say as he put his violin back in its resting place. “How long have you been in London?”

“Several months.” She replied, scanning the room again. “I’ve been staying on Edgware Road in Westminster. A lovely woman has been living there who has a cat which makes an excellent guard. The animal and I have an agreement you see, she doesn’t eat me and I put extra food in her bowl when her mistress is asleep.”

“Sounds about right.”

“I say, Basil, if it’s alright to ask...Where do you know her from?” Asked Dawson quietly, trying to make his voice low so only Basil would hear.

“I’ve run into this woman on several occasions before you and I became acquainted.” Responded the detective who made no effort to conceal his comments. “Scandalous affairs which almost cost a prince’s crown, stolen naval documents with no trace of a culprit, missing diamonds, do I go on?”

“Oh Basil you have no evidence that any of those were me.” She turned back to face the two of them and looked rather hurt by the accusations.

“But I see your methods all over them. Oh of course, high class cases with no visible exits? Scenes where a woman would be easily overlooked. Cases that would greatly benefit you in some way or another.”

“What’s so wrong with wanting to secure a good position for myself? Marriage alone seems so dreadful an option, I need excitement in my life or I fear I shall shrivel into nothing.” Dawson seemed to recall a similar statement from earlier in the day and had to stifle a laugh. Oh yes, these two seemed eerily similar in disposition, it was no wonder they kept crossing paths.

Mrs. Judson returned from the kitchen with a tray holding the teapot, some cups, and a little plate of goodies including the apricots and her cheese crumpets. She placed the items on a tea table which sat beside Basil and Dawson’s chairs and moved it to the center. Basil brought over a stray chair and sat in that, allowing Eliza to take his. Dawson, who had mostly remained beside his own chair through the meeting, sat down once Eliza did. Eliza took the pot and poured the hot tea out for each of them.

“I hope you like this, I only had it once on my travels but remembered loving the flavor.”

“You didn’t add anything...extra to it, did you?” Asked Basil accusingly. He took his cup and brought it under his nose, sniffing it. Dawson watched quietly, the last time he drank something he was given without checking it first he ended up dancing on a stage with showgirls.

“Basil, I would never. That would be a waste of tea.” she paused, bringing her own cup to her lips. “Besides, every lady knows you poison the alcohol.” She smirked slightly and took a sip. Basil still seemed wary, and was even more unnerved after that comment, but drank anyway. Dawson followed suit and remarked on the incredible flavor of the tea. A memory of his time in military service and the culinary offerings of Afghanistan washed over him.

“It’s unlike anything I’ve ever tasted!”

“Of course. English tea has nothing on what the rest of the world has to offer.” She mused and popped an apricot piece into her mouth. Dawson nodded in agreement and the two had an exciting (to them) conversation on international food options for a whole five minutes before Basil had enough and loudly placed his cup back on the tray.

“Come now, Eliza. We both know you are not just here to chat about your flavor preferences. You’ve been walking for quite some time and your dress, while impeccable in taste, has signs of wear and neglect. You haven’t been keeping up with your appearance, which means something is troubling you. Why have you come here?” She paused, looking down into the liquid with a blank expression. Basil could see that she was deciding where to begin. There was something bothering her, which was rare. Something enough that caused her to end up at his door.

“Ah, yes. Leave it to the great Basil of Baker Street so see right through me using the state of my dress.” She placed the cup on its saucer and held it gently on her lap with both paws. “You caught me. As much as I would love for this to be a purely social visit, I need your help.” She placed the teacup back on the tray, pulled a slip of paper from her reticule, and passed it to Basil.

On it was a drawing of some sort of device, a small rectangular box with buttons and antenna, along with some quick sketches of two cylindrical tubes. Small notes were scribbled on the page as well- copper, electrical wires, transmit, delicate. A scientist's hand no doubt.

“This device was recently stolen from my client, and I’ve been hired to track it down but I seem to have hit a dead end in my own investigation.”

“Your client?” Basil asked, looking up from the paper at her.

“A budding scientist from a prominent family.”

“If this is so illustrious a client, why have you been hired to track it down?”

“Sometimes even high-class clients need someone with mud on her boots to finish a job. Not everything I do is illegal.” she replied with a smile. “I have reason to believe it’s been taken by a certain criminal ring under our very streets. I’m sure you’ve heard of Luther Enfield?”

“Yes his ring operates somewhere near Charing Cross Station. What evidence do you have that leads to him?”

“I have a little birdie who has heard the whisperings of dealings that include the device in question. As well as this,” she pulled out a small folded piece of cloth from her reticule “a handkerchief found at the scene. He’s nothing if not a gentlemouse. It’s embroidered with an E and contains traces of common dirt and stone residue from the station. Shoe prints in the carpet that matched the sort he buys, as well as debris from walking on the streets surrounding the area.”

“And I suppose I will not have access to said scene?” Basil asked, taking the handkerchief from her. "I don't like taking a case unless I have all of the facts, all of the resources..."

“Unfortunately my client wishes to remain anonymous. You see, the device he’s creating could change the way we view electricity, and to have that information public this early in the process could ruin everything. But you know how the underworld works, they always find out about items they could profit from.”

“You would know.” Basil said nonchalantly as he glanced back over the paper, taking in its origins from only a glance.

“So you want our help in making sure your hunch is correct and retrieving the device?” Asked Dawson who had been paying close attention to every word. Listening to the two of them was like watching a tennis match where both opponents had been taught by the same master: they seemed even.

“I can no longer officially confirm that he does have it, and trying to find that mouse among the busy station is practically impossible. However, if I had the most brilliant mind in London on my side…” She looked at him with a hint of hope in her eyes. “You know I would never come here unless I absolutely had to.” There was a long stretch of silence, the only sound came from the crackling fire beside them. Basil had one elbow resting on his knee, his hand under his chin as he stared at the paper, scrutinizing it. There was so little information to go off of, but Basil seemed to consider Eliza’s plea.

“Come back tomorrow, Noon sharp.” Basil said after some time. Eliza’s face seemed to light up, but her smile was restrained.

“Thank you, Basil.” She said with such sincerity that Dawson thought he saw a slight change of color in the detective’s cheeks.

Eliza finished off her tea and rose from her seat. Dawson rose with her in a sign of respect while Basil took longer to do so.

“I’ll bring any other information with me tomorrow, but for now you’ll have to go off of my own deductions. I’m sure you’ll end up doing your own sniffing-about before our appointment.” she chuckled to herself and started to make her way to the door. “Until tomorrow, Basil. It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Dr. Dawson. I’ll be sure to bring you more goodies from my travels since you seem to be the only one who appreciates them.”

“Good day, Miss Brant.” Dawson responded, shaking her hand before she retrieved her coat and left. The room was silent for the remainder of the evening, with Basil spending most of it scrutinizing the paper, his only evidence. He would move from his bookshelf to his chemistry set before pacing around the room. Dawson knew he would be of no use to his friend while he was this deep in thought, as any inquiry he made was simply shrugged off. Basil made his way through three pipes, smoking them to their last huff before an idea seemed to pop into his mind.

“Don’t wait up, Dawson! I’ll be back later!” Basil spoke for the first time since their visitor left as he donned his coat and cap and rushed out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you follow me on Twitter, Tumblr, or Instagram I will be posting Illustrations along with each chapter! A sort of nod to Sidney Paget's Holmes Illustrations! I can be found at Shioneaa for all three~


	4. An Appointment at Noon

Basil didn’t return home until late into the morning. Dawson had already finished with his breakfast and was sitting at the table reading the morning paper. 

“Were you out all night?” Dawson asked, surprised, as he looked over at the door in time to see his friend stride inside. Basil was dressed in different clothes than he had left in, a tweed suit that looked old and worn and a dingy bowler hat sat atop his head. His fur was caked with dirt and he appeared to be wearing a false mustache. 

“Is there something different about you?” Dawson asked, poking fun at his friend. 

“Very funny Dawson.” he said quickly as he made his way to the stairs that led up to their rooms. 

“Are you going to tell me where you went?

“All in good time.” was the last thing Basil said before disappearing up the stairs out of Dawson’s sight. 

There was much pacing and rummaging for the rest of the morning from Basil who barely paid any attention to his breakfast, much to Mrs. Judson’s dismay. Smoke from his pipe hung in the air as he made his way about the main room, occasionally muttering to himself. At least he had cleaned himself up. Once he had come back down he was in his usual robe and his fur was free from any dirt. 

Precisely at noon there was a knock at the door and Basil himself went over to open it. 

“That’s some timing.” Dawson remarked as he rose from his seat. Eliza strode inside in a much less elegant ensemble than she had been wearing the previous day. This one consisted of a simple coat, a shirtwaist, a long burgundy skirt that had hardly any bustle, and a plain hat.

“I never miss an appointment, Doctor.” she said with a smile, placing a bag down on the table in the entryway. Basil shot a look at the item but she simply shrugged off his concern, making her way to the seats by the fireplace. “So, great detective. Have you found anything?”

“Yes.” Basil responded as Eliza took a seat in his chair. He lit his pipe and let out a few puffs before beginning. 

“You were right, Eliza. They do have the device you’re looking for and happen to be looking for a buyer. No bidders have shown any interest as of yet, however, which is good for us. I frequented a number of different pubs in the area last night looking and listening for any information. First just as a normal mouse of high standing, but later needing to be slightly less reputable.”

“That would explain the state you returned in this morning.” added Dawson.

“Yes. I might have spent some of the night sleeping under park benches.” said Basil with a slight chuckle. “I didn’t want to sneak around the station as myself so I took on a bit of a persona. However in doing so I was able to ascertain where their entrance is and where they conduct public business. There’s a certain pub inside of the station itself used for first-class travelers and on occasion wealthy mice looking for certain items...Given the right cover we should have no trouble infiltrating tonight.”

“Infiltrating?” Dawson asked, somewhat caught off guard. 

“Oh I knew you’d get the information!” mused Eliza. “What’s your plan?”

Basil smiled confidently and began his speech on what would conspire that evening. Dawson was to pose as a wealthy mouse looking to procure anything of value and Basil would accompany him as his steward. While they were being shown the items, with emphasis on the device in question, Eliza would sneak in and pose as one of the group's many ruffians and snatch the device when her chance arose. Oftentimes in big organizations they don’t pay too much attention to the goons on the lower tiers as they tend to come and go as the situation needs them so she should have no trouble blending in. 

“Do you really think I can play such an important role, Basil?” Asked Dawson warily. “And what about Eliza? That seems such a dangerous job for a lady.”

“If we don’t take her along she’ll just follow us anyway. It’s better to allow her in on the plot and obtain her device on her own and act as decoys rather than to treat her as a damsel and leave her here.This isn’t a normal case where a woman has come to us in hopes that we’ll recover a lost ring. Eliza was hired for this, we’re simply here to help her.” Basil finished this speech and took another puff of his pipe. Eliza looked pleased. 

“I’m glad you understand, Basil.” came her response. “Trust me, Doctor, I can handle myself just fine. And if I might add, I think you will be perfect for the role of prospective buyer.”  
“Do you think so?” Dawson beamed slightly at the compliment.

“But of course! Basil is much too righteous to play a rich mouse looking for interesting artifacts that he can procure illegally. You have just the right posh attitude for the job to be convincing! However, Basil does have enough to reserve to play your steward who accompanies you simply to make sure you are safe. He can hold his nose high as a pompous valet who takes pride in his work much better than an aristocrat.” Eliza responded with a smile.

“I shall ignore the insults and take your compliment, Miss. Brant.” Basil said with another puff. He seemed rather amused. “Now if you are both ready, it would be best if we scouted out the area beforehand and figured out our plan of attack and possible escape routes, should the need arise. As well, I need to set up the appointment for tonight.” Dawson and Eliza nodded in an agreement to Basil’s suggestion. “Unfortunately I can’t take Toby out during the day...we’ll have to catch a cab.”

“I might be able to provide quicker transportation.” suggested Eliza with a sly smile. The other two looked at her as she rose from her seat. “You didn’t think I walked here, did you? Gather what you need and I shall introduce you to my ride.” 

Basil and the Doctor got ready to leave in a short time and met Eliza at the door. Basil was no longer in his usual coat and deerstalker cap but instead wore a nice everyday suit, one a steward would be proud of. 

“That look suits you.” Eliza said to Basil as he opened the door for her and Dawson. The trio made their way out into the daylight, still hidden under the shrubs that covered the residence of 221 ½. “He should be just across at the park. There’s hardly any carriage traffic right now so it should be rather simple to make our way there. Let’s go!” Eliza darted out from under the cover and into the street. Just across the way was Regents Park, and while a beautiful place to spend the day it was rather difficult for anyone below a human’s knee to safely cross over. Her movements were brisk and while there were still humans about, they didn’t usually pay too much attention to the mice of the city. It was just a matter of making sure they didn’t step on you. 

“I swear that woman has no sense!” Basil said exasperatedly as he followed after her into the street. Dawson tried to protest but was ultimately ignored and forced to follow them. 

Eliza was waiting for them at the edge of the grass near a bush, hands on her hips and smiling slightly as they approached, out of breath. 

“You must never be afraid of the first step, gentlemen! You must keep both eyes open on the road ahead of you and know where to move! Otherwise a mouse could never survive in this city! I once made it down two full city blocks under a woman’s skirts.” She chuckled slightly and continued to march into the park, barely stopping to give her companions a chance to catch their breath. “He should be around here somewhere…”

“He?” Dawson asked, glancing at Basil. The Detective simply shrugged his shoulders in response and followed along. Regent’s Park wasn’t too busy at that time, it was mostly nannies taking their children out for a daily stroll. Being a Thursday afternoon, most of London was working, which was convenient for them. The trio wandered the park for only a moment before coming across a pond where several ducks had gathered. 

“There you are!” Eliza exclaimed, making her way over to one in particular. 

“Ah! Miss Brant! You’re back a lot sooner than I’d ‘ave thought!” He lifted his head and smiled as she approached. He was an Eider Duck in a Scottish cap, tartan scarf, and waistcoat. 

“Finished early.” She turned back to her companions. “Boy’s, I’d like you to meet Seamus Mallardew. Most reliable wings in the skies! Seamus, This is Dr. David Dawson and Basil of Baker Street.” 

“My word!” exclaimed Seamus. “THE Basil of Baker Street? Finest detective of the animal world?!” 

“Oh, I had no idea my reputation reached past mousedom.” Basil said, acting flustered but with evident pride in his voice.

“Even the avian world likes a good tale of excitement! The doctors' stories and the headlines in even our papers are well known!”

“We need you to give us a lift to Charing Cross Station. Can you do that for us, Seamus?” Eliza asked.

“Me, fly Basil of Baker Street? Why of course!! Hop on, little mice! Wait until the missus hears about this! Oh, she’ll never believe me!” 

Eliza laughed at Seamus’ enthusiasm and climbed onto his back with ease as if she had done it hundreds of times before. She held out her hand for Basil to take and helped him up.   
Once he and Dawson were safely on the avian’s back Seamus wiggled his tail feathers and with a hearty “HAH!” and a strong flap of his wings they were airborne. 

Using balloons to chase a rat through the dark skies of London was an entirely different experience than riding on the back of a duck was. The tail of Seamus’s scarf was woven between the three mice to help them keep their balance and Dawson was clinging to it for dear life. 

“Let me know when we land!” he shouted, eyes shut tight. 

“It gets easier after a few flights! I was terrified my first time in the air too, Doctor!” Eliza shouted back at him to be heard over the wind. 

“Do you fly often?” Basil asked her. 

“Sometimes! It’s a lot faster and more reliable than catching a cab can be.”

“Leave it to you to pick the exciting option.” 

After around 10 minutes of flight Seamus landed on a rooftop near the Station. Dawson practically kissed the flat surface as soon as his feet made contact. 

“Don’t go anywhere, Mr. Mallardew. This shouldn’t take more than an hour.” said Basil, making his way to the drain pipe. “I’m going to head inside and make the appointment. You two wander through the station, you know what to look for. Meet back up here upon the hour.” With a knowing nod he jumped down the opening of the pipe. Dawson and Eliza followed after him but once they exited at street level he was nowhere to be found. 

“He sure is fast.” Eliza said, dusting off her skirt. “So, Doctor, shall we?” She took the arm he held out for her and let him lead her into the entrance of the station. 

The safest place to enter the station for mice was in the alleyway. Less chance of being trampled by a human that way. They had their own grand facade and the main entrance room was bustling with mice of all sorts going to and fro in their day. This space filled the wall between the outer and inner area of the main Station and the humans had no idea of its existence. A wall of ticket booths stood before them, and beyond that were the tunnels that led down to the main areas of the station including a luggage room and tunnels that led to the train platform. Mice would load from the tracks, climb their way up the track wall on various small ladders that had been built, and jump onto the foot stands that took you into the train. From there were small doors that led to the train areas more suited to the smaller citizens of London. 

“Where do you suppose he went?” Dawson asked as the two strolled through the thinner areas of the crowd.   
“Hard to say.” Eliza responded, glancing at her surroundings. “He mentioned something about a pub, so there must be some way to get to it that doesn’t involve having to purchase a ticket first.” The main entrance, while quite large, mostly catered to the ticket booths and large boards that held the train schedules. A newspaper stand and telegraph office were also available but other than that the extra commodities were for actual passengers. Beyond this were areas to grab something before boarding the train. The duo paused by one of the schedules to seem as though they were checking on a certain arrival. 

“There’s a gate between each ticket booth which only appears to open one way, but there is a door to the right of the line of windows...perhaps for employees. I’m sure any rooms beyond that door lead out to the station tunnels.” Dawson observed. “This is only the entrance, the area for mice exiting the station is on the other side in a different alley.” 

“Look there.” Eliza said, gesturing at a well dressed mouse heading towards the door Dawson had pointed out. “He doesn’t look like an employee. Those clothes are too fine for a station worker, even if he were the owner of the building. And any Conductor would be wearing his uniform. Excuse me, Doctor.” 

Eliza left Dawson’s side, grabbing a map from a stand near the schedule board as she went. Walking quickly, she rushed to her target’s side, tapping him gently on the shoulder. 

“Excuse me, sir, so sorry to bother you but could you by any chance tell me where Temple Station is? You see, my husband mussed up our information and it turns out we are supposed to be meeting my parents at that station, and not this one.” She spoke frantically with a somewhat jovial tone, blaming the mix-up on her “husband” in her best London accent. The mouse just stared at her, annoyed at first. 

“I can’t help you, I’m not an employee.” he stated matter-of-factly. 

“Oh, I am so sorry sir I just assumed since you looked so official a-and you were heading towards an employee area...At least I thought…” she stammered. He rolled his eyes and sighed, pointing at her map. 

“You see, if you just head this way a few blocks, you could easily follow along the Thames and you should reach it in no time.” He gave her a forced smile. 

“Oh thank you so very much sir! I’m so grateful and rather glad I asked! My husband hates to ask for directions, I guarantee he won’t admit he had the wrong station but none of the times on the board match up with what my mum gave me. Thank you again!” She finished, noting the annoyance in his eyes at the fact that she wouldn’t shut up. With a slight curtsey she bid farewell and walked back to her companion. To make it convincing in case he decided to turn back she made a show of pointing at the map in the same fashion he did. 

“I was right, he doesn’t work here. He seemed rather put off that I would even approach him. However, I think I made a rather convincing lost lady.” she beamed. “Up close his fur seemed matted and not well groomed so he’s probably not a face of the gang but at least a little high up their social ladder. Come on, let’s go examine the exit.” 

“Well done.” Dawson said as he offered her his arm. The two strolled out of the station and back into the daylight. “You think rather like Basil. He would have found a way to approach that man as well, I would have just noted him from afar. Yesterday he had mentioned encountering you in other cases but how did you two meet? I’m sorry to ask but the way you two interact has me rather curious.”

“I don’t mind at all. He was hired to retrieve some blackmail I have on someone that I keep for my own protection. He disguised himself as a beggar and jumped out in front of my transportation. I brought him into the flat I was staying at to help him because I felt sorry for him and after he was inside he feigned a larger emergency causing me to give away my hiding spot...But I noticed his eyes. He was watching me too closely for it to not mean anything. He left my home as a beggar, and when he returned later that night as himself, myself and the evidence were gone.” She said this all with a fond smile, as if reminiscing of something that wasn’t a story about blackmail. 

“You outsmarted him?” Dawson said in surprise. 

“I suppose so, and I take pride in that.” 

The two continued their surveillance and after about half an hour of observation they returned to the roof, however, Seamus wasn’t alone. 

“Miss Eliza!!!” A tiny voice squeaked as the duo emerged from the drain pipe. 

“Hello, Tillie!” Eliza embraced the small sparrow girl that flew towards her. “What are you doing up here?”

“I jus’ finished selling my papes for the day and was returning to my nest when I saw Seamus up here and had to say hi! He said you were nearby so i wanted to wait for ya!” 

“Oh I see! Well, Tillie I’d like to introduce you to my friend, Dr. Dawson.”

“How do you do?” Dawson said with a tip of his cap. 

“Rather fine, thank you.” replied the sparrow. She rattled on for a long time after introductions were made, talking about anything and everything she could think of- the days avian headlines and how she managed to sell her whole stack in decent time, what she and her brother had done the night before, how he always came home so late, etc. 

“I see you two have a new companion.” Came a familiar voice from behind them long after Tillie had begun her tales. “You seem to be spending a lot of time with birds lately, Eliza.” Basil said, paying no attention to Tillie. 

“The ones that don’t want to eat us are actually very friendly.” Eliza responded in defense. “I’ll see you again soon, Tillie. Stay out of trouble.” Tillie smiled in response and took that as her sign to leave. 

“If you see Felix will you tell him to not come back to the nest so late next time? It’s lonesome there at night!” Eliza nodded and with that the small sparrow took to the skies. 

“The appointment has been made.” Basil said, breaking the short silence that followed the child’s departure. “For now we must go back to Baker Street and make preparations. We shall return at 10 sharp.”


End file.
